


frosted animal crackers

by laurapxlmer



Series: animal crackers [1]
Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - College/University, Kinda, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rich Harry, University Student Louis, animal crackers, but it isnt a sugar daddy fic sadly, chicken stuffed with mozerella wrapped in parama ham with a side of homemade mash, its fluffy, kinda again, like at the end, literally thats all its about is animal crackers, lots of fluff, theyre cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurapxlmer/pseuds/laurapxlmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry likes frosted animal crackers, and Louis thinks they're the stupidest fucking invention in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	frosted animal crackers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the longest thing I've ever written (which says a lot about my attention span, honestly) and I'm really proud of it and it took like three months for all of the ideas to come together and such so just.. be easy on me if it's complete shit. Also, I apologize for my Americanisms, I desperately need a britpick/beta; but I try, which has to count for something. Sorry for my rambling :c

There are lots of perks about living in a small town. Not much happens, so there’s not a lot of crime or scandals of any kind. There are no traffic jams when you’re late for work, no ten-minute lines for a cup of coffee, it’s nice and quiet just when you need it to be, and the best part, for Harry Styles anyway, it’s next to impossible to get lost.

 

For all of the good living in Holmes Chapel brings Harry, he shouldn’t regret the bad – particularly the fast-traveling news and gossip – as much as he does. And he didn’t until he was sixteen and the only openly gay kid in the village. He’d planned it out for two weeks; sitting down and having a serious family dinner, inviting his gran even, and making the meal himself, announcing it to them over dessert. His family had had no problem with it, as to be expected, and neither did his friends when he told them the next day after school while pretending to do a project in the library.

 

He doesn’t know who told who and why they did it, but the entire town knew by the following Monday. No one in the town really cared, sans a few homophobic assholes on the footie team and the girl in Harry’s biology class that had had a huge crush on him.

 

A month later, Nick Grimshaw kissed him. Nick and Harry weren’t the best of friends, but they were good friends, had several mutual friends, and their mums had gone to uni together.

 

Harry didn’t really know a life as an openly gay guy without Nick in it. Harry was out for a week before Nick was, so all of the grans in the town tried their hands at setting the two up; Harry was out for three and a half weeks before he and Nick were dating. After a year of dating, they were moving into Nick’s flat in London together while Harry started uni; a year after that, they were getting married.

 

Harry worked on a degree in business, but didn’t plan on doing anything with it; Nick’s family was rich, and Nick had a successful job as a dj for Radio 1, so he didn’t _need_ to do anything with it. During the day, he baked, watched the food network, cleaned the house, did yoga, and searched for the perfect surrogate; at night he went to parties and clubs and events with Nick. He felt like a typical WAG… just a HAB, maybe, if that’s a thing.

 

Then Nick died in a car crash.

 

**

 

“Liam,” Louis whined, dragging out the end of his flat mate’s name into the old couch cushion that he was laying on face-down. “Liam please, I don’t want to go to work with you. Can’t you come by and get me after work before you go to the school?”

 

“I’m not wasting gas and time like that, you lazy piece of shit. All you have to do is sit in the lobby on your phone for an hour. Really. It’s not that bad when you compare it to having to ride the bus to campus.”

 

Louis shuddered at the thought of riding that god-forsaken bus ever again after what happened yesterday. “But… Lili…” he whimpers, lifting his head up to look at Liam eating his cereal.

 

“Lou Lou,” Liam mocks, then laughs. “No. Now get dressed, and look a little decent.”

 

Louis grumpily rolls off of the couch and climbs to his feet, sighing heavily and dramatically, before making his way back to his bedroom to get dressed for the day. He doesn’t have to listen to Liam, he realizes, because Liam’s younger than him and it’s not like he’s meeting Liam’s boss or anything. Just sitting in the lobby of the building Liam works in while Liam has a meeting before going to class. He doesn’t have to be a knob and wear a full suit like Liam; he decides Vans, sweats, a t-shirt, and a beanie are just perfect. It’s what he’d wear to class on any other day. So he’s wearing it today.

 

They leave fifteen minutes later, Liam in his suit sans the jacket and disappointed in Louis, both with backpacks over their shoulders. “So what makes this meeting so un-important?”

 

“What do you mean? This is my first client I get to see on my own without Hamish breathing down my neck the entire time. It’s extremely important.”

 

“You’re not wearing your suit jacket,” Louis points out. Liam slams on the breaks, receiving several honks for doing so, before speeding to turn around and get his jacket. It makes them five minutes late.

 

When they arrive at the law firm Liam works for, Liam runs upstairs without explaining to the bottle-blond secretary about Louis. Louis fidgets for a minute – what on earth am I supposed to say? “Hey, I’m gunna sit in your lobby for an hour, don’t call the cops” ? – before walking up to the guy manning the desk.

 

“Welcome to London Law, how may I help you?” the blond says in an Irish monotone. Good, he wants to be here as much as Louis.

 

Louis leans on the desk with his left arm. “Uh, yeah. I’m Louis. My mate Liam works here and has a meeting, but he’s driving me to class after, and he said it’d be cool if I just waited here. That alright?”  


“Fuck if I care, man,” the Irish kid, Niall according to his nametag, laughs. “Dad owns half the building, so I just work here until I graduate or my music takes off. Want some animal crackers?” When Louis nodded, he asked, “Frosted or unfrosted?”

 

Before Louis can ask what the fuck frosted animal crackers are, a voice answers from behind him, “Frosted, obviously. Those have the little sprinkles.”

 

Louis turns around and gets a face full of a Ramones shirt stretched across a nice chest and an ‘oops’ before the boy is backing up. He looks up and sees that the chest is not the only nice part of this kid’s body – he’s got pasty skin and big eyes and pretty lips and abnormally sized nostrils and wavy hair in a scarf and that voice and he’s tall… it shouldn’t all work together but it really, really does, Louis decides. “Hi there. Hate to break it to you, but there’s no such thing as frosted animal crackers, actually,” he says, turning back to Niall, who’s smiling. “So, regular.”

 

“Yes, there are,” Curly argues back. “They come in pink, purple, and white. Some even have sprinkles!”

 

Louis sighs. “I dunno, kid. I don’t believe you. They don’t exist.” He shrugs. “Soz.”

 

The kid’s jaw falls open in shock that Louis is arguing with him over this, then he quickly turns to Niall. “Could you go get some frosted animal crackers please?” And he’s polite, Louis must be in heaven.

 

Niall nods and disappears through a door behind him. Louis turns to the kid who couldn’t be older than nineteen, if the band shirt and Converse are anything to go by. “I still think this is just a trick. Lovely secretary Niall is gunna say that they’ve run out or something. You both probably do it to all the cute boys that come in here.”

 

The boy shakes his head. “No, I don’t know him. You’re the first cute boy we’re doing it to – even though it isn’t a trick and I don’t know him!” he quickly fixed, flustered.

 

“Here, last pack, Lou,” Niall says, holding up a small red snack pack in his hand. Louis takes it and examines the bag. He sees the gross, freak-of-nature frosted animal crackers – sprinkles included – but wants to keep this going longer. He can’t say bye to Curly just yet.

 

“These are regular animal crackers, kid. Sorry.” Louis hands him the animal crackers, smiling.

 

His jaw drops again, cheeks turning pink, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. “But… these are the frosted…? What are you…”

 

“I’m taking the piss, babe,” Louis says with a smile, making Niall laugh loudly and Curly laugh nervously.

 

“Um, yeah, I knew that,” Curly says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before apparently realizing something. “Oh, um, I had a meeting today with Liam Payne?”

 

Niall rolls his eyes, clearly upset at having to do his job again, looking down at his computer and typing something in. “Oh, yeah, Mr. Styles. Fifth floor, second office on your right.”

 

“Thank you, Niall.” Before walking off, ‘Mr. Styles’ turns around. “Enjoy your animal crackers.”

 

Louis might be in love.

 

-

 

“I need you to do me a favor,” Louis says, sitting down on the couch next to Liam, bowl of cereal in his lap. “I made you cereal as an offering.”

 

“That’s you’re cereal though, Lou,” Liam says, rolling his eyes at the overly-sugary cereal that he wouldn’t eat.

 

Louis looks down. “Oh… yeah, it is. Sorry about that. It’s the thought that counts, though, right?”

 

“What do you want Lou? I’m in the middle of something.”

 

Louis sets his cereal on the table in front of him before turning to Liam. “Who was the guy you saw today?”

 

“A client,” Liam responds, not looking up from papers.

 

“Yes, I know,” Louis says, exasperated. “I talked to him in the lobby. We’re in love and getting married. I just don’t know his name.”

 

“I can’t tell you.”

 

“And why the fuck not?” Louis asks.

 

“Privacy. I don’t have permission to say anything about him to the press, so I can’t say anything to you.” Liam pauses. “Fuck.”

 

“So he’s famous?” Louis says, jumping on Liam’s slip-up.

 

“I can’t tell you that, Lou.”

 

“C’mon, Liam, just tell me if he’s famous,” Louis begs. “I’ll cook you dinner.”

 

“You can’t cook and you know it. Do laundry for a week and I’ll tell you if he’s famous,” Liam tells him.

 

Louis scoffs. “I’m not doing laundry for a week for as little information as that! Laundry for a week for his first name. Pinky promise.” Louis holds out his pinky finger, nudging Liam’s hand with it. “C’mon, Liam, you can be my best man at the wedding.”

 

Liam looks at Louis’s pinky for a minute before sighing. “Fine,” he says, looping his finger through Louis’s. “Harry.”

 

“Great! Thanks Liam!”

 

Louis gets up to run to his room, prepared to google this Harry Styles person, before Liam yanks his shirt back. “My gym bag is behind the door in my room.”

 

Louis groans. “Fuck you.”

 

-

 

Louis googles Harry Styles the next day as he avoids listening to his lecturer droning on and on about a play Louis’s read several times. ‘Radio personality dead in a car crash at 30’ is the first headline that pops up, and Louis panics, thinking that this lovely boy he’d met only yesterday had died already, before reading that Harry’s _husband_ had died.

 

Oh. At least he’s into blokes.

 

They’re let out of class early, and Louis really wishes he had a key to Liam’s car so he wouldn’t have to sit on a bench outside Liam’s classroom. He texts Liam, telling him to fake sick or family emergency so he can get out of the cold, but Liam’s class is out before Louis has a chance to hit send.

 

“You don’t mind if we swing by the office, do you?” Liam asks. “I have a client that’s dropping off some papers for me in a few minutes.”

 

Louis shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about his hope that it’s Harry Styles. “What client?”

 

“Your fiancé,” Liam tells him with a smirk, and Louis tries not to light up like a Christmas tree. “C’mon, hurry, it’s about to rain.”

 

The ride to the firm is awkward for Louis and hilarious for Liam. They both know that all Louis wants to do is see Harry Styles again, maybe blow him in the bathroom or take him out to dinner and propose, whatever.

 

It’s positively pouring when they park outside of the tall, grey building, and Louis considers staying in the car for a second. But Liam’s never nit-picky about sharing an umbrella and Harry Styles will be in there shortly, if he isn’t already.

 

He isn’t there when Louis and Liam get inside. Liam goes up to his office to dry off and Louis goes to talk to Niall. They trade numbers so they can go get drinks on Friday, then they talk about football, then Liam’s telling Louis he’s done and it’s time to leave.

 

Without seeing the entire reason he went inside.

 

Neither of them talk until they get home, and it’s Liam saying, “I know you’re dying to know what happened today.”

 

Louis shrugs. “Kinda. Not a big deal.” He walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge.

 

“He was waiting for me upstairs when I got there,” Liam supplies, and Louis tries not to care. “And he has a friend up there, that cute guy I work with I told you about, and he stayed to talk with him.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“He’s not my client anymore now, you know,” Liam says, smirking. “Well, it’ll be officially closed tomorrow morning, technically.”

 

“Great, Li,” Louis says, getting the orange juice just for something to do. “Congrats on closing with your first client on your own. I’ll buy you a pint Friday. We have to go grocery shopping,” he says, looking down at the orange juice before throwing it in the sink. “We need orange juice so I can study.”

 

“He asked for your number, Lou,” Liam says as Louis is walking back to his bedroom. “But I didn’t give it to him. So he wants me to give you his.”

 

Liam hands Louis a piece of paper. “Thanks, Li. I’m tired, I think I’ll go nap.” He forces a yawn and walks into his room, setting the paper down on his desk like it’s a bomb. How the fuck is he supposed to text the most beautiful creature on the planet? ‘Hi I’m that friend of your lawyer’s you’re beautiful let’s go out sometime or get married’?

 

He stares at the paper for an hour until he really does fall asleep, having nightmares about demon pieces of paper with numbers jumping off the page to strangle him. He’s really got to get this whole anxiety thing checked out.

 

-

 

“It’s been a few days, mate,” Niall says as he shoves four chips into his mouth before taking a gulp of his beer. “Call him already.”

 

Louis shakes his head. “He’ll think I’m weird.”

 

Niall snorts. “Yeah, okay. Only gave you his bloody number after meeting you once.”

 

Louis groans and Niall laughs. That about sums up Friday night, because Louis doesn’t feel like getting drunk and he leaves before he has to take care of drunk Niall.

 

**

 

Liam bails on grocery shopping with Louis Saturday night. Well, he doesn’t actually bail, as he’s ‘come down with a cold.’ Louis calls bullshit, obviously, because Liam was just fine last night, coming home at 2 am ‘waking up’ Louis from his pretend-sleep.

 

Louis’s sulking over shopping alone doesn’t change the fact that he has that small of a social life that he’s grocery shopping on a Saturday night, and the night before he’d gone home early instead of drinking with friends and possibly finding a guy to hook up with for the night. But he doesn’t mind, not too much, because he honestly couldn’t deal with much of a social life outside of him and Liam; adding Niall in was a big step, and Liam told him so before they went out. (It was really just a quiet ‘proud of you, babe’ and nothing more, but Louis knew what he meant; proud of you for going out and getting a friend and not ignoring them indefinitely like with all the others.)

 

At the store, Louis takes his time, being sure to grab two cartons of orange juice, the right kind of milk for Liam, some cheap wine, ramen noodles, bread, tea, and then he hovers in the cookie aisle.

 

_Well, whadaya know, there’s fucking frosted animal crackers._

 

Louis goes to grab some, because he’s feeling sad about not calling Harry and he thinks that with the proper motivation he can call Harry and maybe invite him over for some frosted animal crackers because that’s cute, right? Even though animal crackers should not—

 

“You never called.”

 

Louis whips around quickly, and well. Fuck. _Fuck._

 

“Um, I was, you see I was,” Louis struggles for an excuse and settles on the truth. “Nervous?” Well, not the full truth, as telling a beautiful boy that he made you have a panic attack wasn’t a good way to get in his pants.

 

Curly boy – _Harry_ , Louis reminds himself – smiles. “Why?”

 

“You – really? Harold –“

 

“Just Harry,” Harry interjects.

 

“Harold, you seriously cannot ask that question. You’re – fucking _look at you, dammit._ You’re gorgeous and I’m me, and your husband just died, and –“

 

“Really? Nick being dead made you nervous?”

 

Louis rolls his eyes and facepalms.

 

“So I see you have frosted animal crackers in your basket,” Harry says with a smirk. “I take it you liked them?”

 

Louis blushes, because he actually didn’t, he was only getting them so he could invite Harry over to have some, which in retrospect seems stupid, but he shrugs anyway, preferring not to give away his reasoning. “So, Harold, what are you doing at the grocery on a Saturday night? Figured you’d have lots of friends, I’ve seen some pictures from when I googled you.” Shit shit shit _shit._

 

Harry’s smirk grows, but he doesn’t comment on being looked up. “They were Nick’s friends, mostly. Not really that big into parties much anymore.”

 

Oh. “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, I’ve talked about him and never even –“

 

“Don’t apologize or give condolences, please. I can’t take one more person saying that they’re sorry.” Louis snaps his mouth shut quickly. “So, about that call.”

 

“I really am sorry, I was going to call, really, I just.”

 

“I was thinking you could make it up to me by taking me to dinner tomorrow night,” Harry says with the cutest little smile Louis’s ever seen in his life.

 

And, really, Louis can’t so no to a smile like that.

 

**

 

“Niall, I can’t do this,” Louis mumbles to Niall through one of the ten (not an exaggeration) pillows on his bed. “I can’t. He’s perfect and I’m me and no.”

 

Niall sighs and goes to sit next to Louis, but with his small body tucked under the duvet, Niall ends up sitting on Louis’s lower back. “Lou—“

 

“If you’re planning on fucking me to make me less nervous or something just go now. Not tonight.”

 

Niall laughs. “Did you just inadvertently say you’d have sex with me?”

 

“Niall,” Louis groans, stretching out the name.

 

“I know, I know.” He sighs again. “Alright, he liked you when you were in sweats and a beanie and not trying, he’ll absolutely love you when you do try. So, really, you can’t go wrong. Where are you two going?”

 

“I don’t know.” Louis shifts and Niall ends up on the floor but just laughs. “He said I could take him to dinner, but he picked the restaurant and he’s picking me up. His dead husband was rich though so I’d guess somewhere relatively fancy?”

 

“Hmm.” Niall taps his finger to his chin, then gets up to look through Louis’s closet. He throws a pair of dark jeans at Louis before shifting through some shirts. “Put those on,” he says over his shoulder. “Aha!”

 

Niall hands Louis a maroon cable-knit sweater with v for the neck, and Louis knows his nicest vans match it, and Louis loves Niall and definitely does not regret befriending him. Louis tells him as much and gets a sloppy kiss on the cheek, which he pretends disgusts him. He secretly loves having Niall as a friend even more, because Louis’s never been one for no friendly kissing in friendships.

 

Harry gets to the flat a minute before seven, and he says hi to Liam and Niall, asking how Liam’s work and school is going and talking to Niall about his music before Louis rushes Harry out the door. “Bye Mum, bye Dad, don’t wait up!” Louis says over his shoulder, and before the door closes, he hears Niall’s cackle and Liam yell “Make good choices!”

 

“Who’s the mum and who’s the dad?” Harry asks as they start down the stairs. The problem with living in a shitty apartment, you never know when the elevator will and won’t work.

 

“Well, Liam is a mother-hen, but is really stern about boys, but Niall drinks with me and is the one who picked out this outfit, so. Make of it what you will.”

 

“Remind me to thank Niall,” he mumbles, causing Louis’s breath to hitch. Then, more clearly, “So they share. Versatile couples are the best.”

 

“Oh, they aren’t—“

 

Harry blushes. “Oh. I… I knew that.”

 

Louis laughs, and he thinks that maybe he can do this now. “Where are you taking me, young Harold?”

 

“I’m twenty-two, ‘m not young.”

 

“Aw, you’re but a wee babe, two entire years younger than me. Practically an infant. I feel like a cradle robber, maybe I should head back upstairs.”

 

“Louis,” Harry groans, grabbing just above Louis’s elbow, and his entire arm is on fire. Louis has to remind himself to breathe. “No, c’mon. We’re going to my favorite restaurant, it’s this little pizza place I only really ever went to a few times with my mum and sister, he didn’t really like it much.”

 

And, right. Dead husband. Louis just tries to breathe, because although Harry’s the one who asked him out, Louis still feels that he has to compete because _radio show host._ “Then how do you know I’ll like it?” Louis teases.

 

“You’re not as posh. Come on.” Harry steps up to a nice Range Rover, black and sleek and _it’s probably worth more than Louis’s flat_ , and opens the passenger door for Louis. _What a gentleman._ Louis says as much as he’s getting in, and he thinks he sees blush creeping back into Harry’s dimpled cheeks.

 

The restaurant is smaller and quainter than what Louis would have expected from a late-dj’s husband, but exactly what he would have expected from Harry. They sit in the back of the dimly-lit restaurant and Harry smiles and nods at one of the waitresses instead of ordering. “Come here a lot then?”

 

“Came by earlier, actually. Wait, shit, you aren’t a vegetarian, are you? Or a vegan? I didn’t even think to ask, hang on, I’ll go order you something else, what –“

 

“Harold, really. I’m sure whatever you ordered will be fine.”

 

“Not a vegetarian?”

 

“Not a vegetarian.”

 

“Vegan?” Louis laughs at that one, shaking his head ‘no.’

 

“So, Harold—“

 

“Harry.”

 

“Harold, do you go to uni? Or do you work? I feel like I know nothing about you aside from the little I saw on google.”

 

Harry smiles. “I finished a quickie business degree online a few months ago, and I don’t have a job.”

 

“So what do you do all day? Knit?”

 

“No, but I want to learn,” Harry says seriously, failing horribly at covering up a giggle. “I bake and watch shit telly. I have about fifty Pinterest projects I want to start but there’s been a lot going on in the last month.”

 

Louis nods. “I can imagine, must be hard to deal with that.”

 

“Can we please not talk about my dead husband on our first date? Please?” Harry asks, less than his bubbly self that Louis’s been in love with since they met. “I get asked about it a lot, and I’m over it, but people think it’s all I want to talk about. I’ve contemplated bringing Nick back just so I can kill him for dying and leaving all these people to annoy me about him.”

 

Louis is taken aback, a bit. But he doesn’t want to dwell on this subject. “First date? You say that like there will be more than this one.”

 

“Of course there will be,” Harry tells Louis solemnly. “I don’t make it a habit of letting cute boys escape. I married the last boyfriend I had, and he wasn’t near as cute as you.”

 

Louis’s face heats up, and he’s thankful for the water on the table. Then the waitress from earlier brings a pizza with just about everything under the sun on it, and if Louis wasn’t in love before, he most certainly is now. Harry eats three pieces of the pie and Louis eats two, and Harry insists on Louis taking the leftovers home to Liam and Niall. “Who says I’m going home?”

 

“I don’t put out on a first date, Lewis,” Harry tells him as they head out to the car park.

 

“I think grocery shopping together yesterday counted as a first date, though, don’t you?”

 

“Date three and you might get a blowjob.”

 

Louis groans and his dick twitches in his pants. “Harold, don’t just. You can’t just _say_ those things in public and not do anything about problems you might have created.”

 

Harry smirks and gets in the driver side of the car. Louis takes two seconds of deep breathing and willing his dick to go down before getting in. The ride back to Louis’s flat is quiet, sans the odd ‘I love this song’ or ‘are you too cold?’.

 

They’re standing in front of Louis’s door before either says anything. “I had a great time tonight, Harold, no matter how clichéd that sounds.”

 

Harry smiles and leans in, saying, “I had a _brilliant_ time tonight, Lewis.” And then they’re kissing. Harry’s mouth is softer than they looked, molding against Louis’s thinner lips, but Harry won’t let Louis take it much further than that. “Actually call me this time, alright?”

 

“Well, you did promise me a blowjob next time we went out,” Louis says with a smirk, half turning to unlock the door. “Night, Haz.”

 

“Good night, Lou.”

 

**

 

It’s exactly twenty-one hours before Louis calls Harry, because no one goes out on a Monday night, right? The shitty service in Louis’s flat makes Harry’s voice sound gravely, and Louis can’t get enough of it, so they talk until Liam comes into his room to remind him that he has a test the next day.

 

They schedule their next for lunch-time on Tuesday, after Louis finishes his test.

 

**

 

The ‘I love you’s come on the four-week anniversary; it’s sooner than any of Louis’s relationships (if that endearment came at all), and a lot more frequent than Harry’s one other relationship.

 

Liam and Harry get along great, once Harry convinces Liam to stop calling him ‘Mr. Styles,’ which is a blessing since Louis and Harry have become LouisandHarry. Niall is always around the Tomlinson-Payne flat, and he gets on with everyone, and some days Louis thinks Niall likes Harry more than Louis.

 

Harry even brings his mate Zayn around, and Louis finds out the hard way that Zayn was the hot guy at work Liam had been pining after forever – never shut yourself in the linen closet just because you hear snogging noises headed toward the laundry room and you want to investigate. Most awkward ten minutes of Louis’s life, that only ended because Harry had come stumbling in looking for his boyfriend.

 

It’s that night in bed – at Harry’s, because Louis obviously didn’t want to be in the same flat with Liam and Zayn all night – that Harry says he thinks he loves Louis more than he ever loved Nick.

 

**

 

It’s four weeks and five days before Louis meets Harry’s family and gets his entire family (five sisters, one brother, and his parents) invited to the Styles-Twist family Christmas. He declines for at least five minutes, before seeing that his attempts are futile.

 

They Skype with Louis’s mum shortly after that, as Anne – “I swear to God, Louis, if you call me ‘Mrs. Twist’ I’ll see to it that you never see my son again” – wants to invite the Tomlinson-Deakin family herself.

 

**

 

Louis never really liked that Harry’s watch could pay for the rest of his tuition, so it was their first Big Fight when Harry suggested that they buy presents for their families together. “Lou, I know things are tight money-wise for you around Christmas time, so let me at least pay for half of each present, so they’re from each of us,” he’d said. “Mum will kill me if I spend too much on her present, anyway.”

 

It’s day three of Louis ignoring Harry when Louis comes up with an idea. Well, really, it’s Liam who said it. “You want to marry him, and have for five months, so let him buy Christmas presents and save your money to buy the ring.”

 

So Louis calls Harry, and they have two rounds of make-up sex before actually making-up more than saying the standard ‘I’m sorry I love you’s.

 

Harry’s the first to crack. “I really am sorry for offending you,” he says, coming down from his second orgasm. “If you want to—“

 

“Harold, it’s fine. I’m sorry for being such a whiny bitch.”

 

Harry leans down to kiss Louis’s forehead. “So you’ll let me pay for half of each present then?”

 

“If it’ll make you happy, you can pay for the whole present and I’ll pay you back in blowjobs. Whatever you want, baby.” And Louis prays that Harry will pay for the whole present, or at least a good bit of it, because engagement rings are fucking _expensive_ and Louis’s getting a Master’s Degree and _tuition is a bitch._ “I’m sorry for upsetting you and making you feel guilty about my situation. I love you.”

 

“I love _you_ ,” Harry returns. They go for round three in the shower a few minutes later, and then Harry tells him that he doesn’t think he was ever in love with Nick.

 

**

 

The day before Louis’s birthday, and the day before Louis and Harry leave London for Cheshire, Louis kicks Harry out of the house for two hours, which means Louis has approximately one hour to cook, twenty minutes to panic, twenty minutes to set up, ten minutes to panic again and call Liam, and ten minutes to recheck everything.

 

There chicken and mashed potatoes are on their plates beside two glasses of Harry’s favorite wine and some candles, and there’s a rose sitting next to Harry’s silverware. Harry gets home and gushes about how perfect and wonderful his boyfriend is and kisses his face and neck until Louis complains about getting hard and the chicken getting cold.

 

Harry squeals when he sees the rose, moans when he tastes the food, and almost cries when they’re sitting on the couch and Louis brings out dessert – a heart-shaped bowl filled with those damn frosted animal crackers that Harry loves so much.

 

He actually does cry when he finds the ring in the bottom of the bowl.

 

**

 

“Lou,” Harry whispers. “Louis. Boobear. Louuuu. Louis. Louis William. Wake up.”

 

Louis groans and smacks his husband – and that thought all but wakes him up completely because _wow, they’re married_ – in the face. “What now?”

 

“I want to open a bakery.”

 

“What the fuck?”

 

Harry smiles because Louis’s waking up. “A bakery. C’mon, let’s do it. Or, you won’t have to do anything, really, maybe help me come up with a name. Well, I have a name, so you won’t have to do anything, but if you wanted to—“

 

“Harold,” Louis says, sitting up slowly, their duvet falling off of his shoulders. “Slow down. You want to open a bakery?”

 

“Yep,” Harry says proudly.  


Louis smiles at how excited his husband looks. “Okay, and you said you have a name?”

 

“Tomlinson’s.”

 

Louis laughs. “That’s so boring and unoriginal, though. Why can’t it be something fun? Everyone names their store after themselves.”

 

Harry sighs. “I didn’t want to take Nick’s name when we got married, and he didn’t want to take mine, so we kept our own last names. I thought about it when you proposed, and by then I’d realized that it was because we weren’t _in_ love. You know, he never even properly prosed? One day he just suggested that we get married, so we went to a courthouse and had it officiated. But I was so happy to finally be married that I didn’t care that I hadn’t gotten my fairy tale wedding.”

 

“Haz, love, you’re getting off topic. Last names, bakery.”

 

“Right. But I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me. That’s why I wanted your last name.”

 

“Even though I wanted yours, you arse.”

 

“Shut up, Lou. You proposed so I changed my name. But… yeah. That’s why I want to name the bakery Tomlinson’s. Because I finally got my fairy tale wedding and perfect husband.”

 

“I thought you were going to call me a prince,” Louis admits with a pout.

 

Harry barks out a laugh. “You’re too tiny to be a prince. You’re more like a fairy.”

 

“Okay, you know what, Harold, fuck you. You can’t use my name on your damn bakery because you called me a fairy _again_.”

 

“Fine, I’ll just use my name for the bakery.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes because he’s so _damn fond_ of this boy. “I guess that’ll be okay. Do you have any ideas for what to bake?”

 

“I have an idea for a cupcake.”

 

And animal cracker cupcakes become a best seller at Tomlinson’s. Possibly because of Harry’s wonderful cooking, but most likely because Harry tells the story of how he met Louis with every animal cracker cupcake sold.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, be easy on me if it was absolutely terrible, but any kind of comments absolutely make my day (let's be honest, they make my life, which makes me sound like a total loser). My tumblr is hfflpffhoe if you wanna say hi or whatever. xx
> 
> ~january 15, 2014: i'm working on the sequel i promise x


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